


shutterbug

by kittymills



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura and Shiro are bffs, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Photographer Shiro, aspiring model keith, firecracker keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-09-28 01:28:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20417621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittymills/pseuds/kittymills
Summary: Shiro is a photographer that's lost his passion.Enter Keith.





	shutterbug

**Author's Note:**

> Eons ago I promised someone I would write photographer!shiro and model!keith but for the life of me I can not remember who it was... if it was you, I am SO SORRY it's taken so long and uhhh, also that I don't remember your name because I'm terrible at things like that.

_The last time Shiro had been this captivated, it hadn’t ended well. _

_He can’t bring himself to cut short the shoot though, not with the beauty he has to work with. Long, lean, pale limbs. Too long dark hair that shades eyes the colour of galaxies that peep through the strands. There’s a stillness to his man that Shiro should find awkward to work with. He’s used to a faster pace, brisk moves and snapping shutters – time is money after all – but this man lingers, staring him down through the lens with soft parted lips and a gaze that makes him feel striped bare even from behind the camera._

_Keith, Allura had told him his name was but Shiro thinks perhaps he should have something more otherworldly. He’s smooth and quiet… and Shiro is pretty sure he just stole away with his heart._

* * *

“You need a passion project,” Allura tells him over a sinful breakfast full of pastries and champagne mixed with juice. They’ve both had too many, the sun is too bright beyond his dark aviators, but fuck it, he doesn’t have anything booked today.

“A passion project,” Shiro snorts ungracefully but he’s not rude enough to ignore Allura’s suggestion outright. Allura was sharp and savvy and he owed a lot of his success to her acute business acumen. She was his business partner, best friend and just about the only family he had left. “And what do you propose?”

She smiles at him over the rim of her glass. He can’t see the smirk hidden behind her oversized sunglasses but he knows it’s there just the same. “Well, it’s a passion project. It needs to be something you’re passionate about.”

“I used to be passionate about photography,” he mutters before sighing, immediately regretting his words. They were too strong, too dramatic for how he really feels. He shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Allura. I know being booked for two years and beyond is a feat in itself but…” he casts around for the right words. He doesn’t want to sound ungrateful. He has a good life, a thriving studio, award upon award upon award, international clients and more money than he knows how to spend.

But none of it is enough anymore.

“No offence taken,” she tells him pointedly, her voice a little sharper than it needs to be. “So, like I said, you need a passion project. Find your joy again. Photograph little old ladies knitting in their homes all over the world and launch an exhibition. Photograph dogs or black cats or ferrets or whatever it is that you like best. Photograph what _you_ like.”

Shiro takes a bigger gulp of his drink and wishes the alcohol was stronger.

“A passion project, huh?”

“Yes, Shiro,” Allura tells him haughtily. “A passion project so I can stop listening to you cry into your croissant every Sunday morning.”

* * *

It’s easier than it should be for Shiro to finally decide on taking up Allura’s suggestion. Not that anything from Allura is a suggestion. It’s more a directive and if he’s brutally honest, she’s never once steered him wrong. But he wants the project to reflect something deeper inside of him, a way to give back since he himself had experienced unbridled success due to equal parts sheer hard work, and luck.

It’s how he finds himself browsing the local forums, searching for an up and coming model that might need assistance with a new portfolio, someone willing to give up their time to indulge in Shiro’s own creation.

Shoot what he wants to shoot, not what some greasy client insists on.

Really, he should never have gone into commercial photography. Portraits would have been much kinder on his soul, he thinks absently one day.

There’s a number of threads of willing models searching for photographers. _Time for Prints_ the arrangement seems to be called, but none of them jump out as someone he would want to work with, not until he gets five pages in and he comes across the profile of the most beautiful human he’s ever seen. Dark hair, pale skin, a smile that looks like it could kill you.

He looks like _he_ could kill you.

Beauty aside, Shiro likes his profile too. It’s short and simple and honest and Shiro likes it immediately.

Perhaps it was the wine with dinner but he finds himself not hesitating for even a moment when it came to sending him a message.

Maybe he would regret it in the morning. Maybe not.

* * *

When the model shows up at his studio, he’s everything and nothing that Shiro expected. His voice is like crushed gravel and he’s surprisingly nervous when he slinks in through the door and then Shiro locks it behind him.

Shiro rushes to assure him when he realises how _that_ might look. He flushes slightly and gestures towards the studio’s foyer.

“Usually my business partner is on site to keep an eye on things but it’s after her usual hours and she’s currently on a hot date with some guy who might be royalty or something.”

His model – Keith, he quickly learns is name is – gives him an unimpressed stare. Shiro’s not used to feeling awkward around his models, and he has to remind himself he’s not working with a professional tonight. Keith is new to the industry, and it’s clear that he’s a lot more genuine than many others who have walked through Shiro’s doors.

Shiro clears his throat and leads the way towards his studio, tucked away in the back of the warehouse. He’s wary of leaving the front studio door unlocked while he’s working if Allura isn’t around. He’s had far too much equipment walk out without him realising and he hopes that Keith doesn’t take his intentions for anything nefarious.

Keith doesn’t hesitate to follow him, so Shiro takes that as a good sign.

He takes it as an even better one when Keith slowly, eventually starts to relax.

Keith is more than just incredibly beautiful. He’s funny too, a whip like sharp humour that has Shiro unable to hold back his laughter as they talk. After they discuss Keith’s expectations, Shiro moves to set up the lighting. He knows a lot of photographers are happy to leave the bulk of the set up for shoots to assistants but he’s always found it soothing to work in the dark studio with just the soft light washing over them.

It’s not until he picks up a camera and the flash starts to light up the space like lightning that Keith really transforms. Gorgeous eyes, still slightly nervous, but he rises to the occasion and stares Shiro down through the camera like he’s about to go to war. Shiro can see it, Keith poised on the battle field, wind whipping through his dark hair and a lethal blade in his hand-

The camera clicks, the vision fades.

After two hours, they’re both tired. Shiro finds himself making a request he never thought he would make and Keith agrees to come back for another shoot. There’s a lot Shiro wants to try. There’s a lot he wants to do. He can’t remember the last time he simply enjoyed his work, the challenge, the creativity and he makes a mental note to thank Allura for her suggestion.

As usual, she was right.

It’s not until their third shoot that Shiro gets closer. He’s fascinated by every part of Keith, the dark blue shade of his eyes that almost looks purple, the pink tint to his lips, the sharpness of his cheeks. His heritage appears mixed, but Shiro doesn’t want to pry and he’s glad he doesn’t when Keith runs a hand through his hair and glances away, but not before he offers it up voluntarily.

“I was adopted,” he confesses quietly. Then he shrugs. “No idea who my parents were.”

Shiro lowers his camera. “Me too,” he says softly.

Something seems to change between them then, as though parts of them recognized something in each other they hadn’t even known they were searching for. Shiro finds himself creeping closer, wanting to touch, wanting to brush Keith’s hair out of his eyes, to trace his fingers over the pale skin. The yearning is palpable.

And he knows this has to end when Keith leans, a subtle shift, an unmistakable invitation Shiro desperately wants to accept.

But he steps back and places his camera down. He clears his throat roughly, an ache behind his breastbone.

“I think that’s enough for tonight.”

* * *

A few days later, Allura pokes him in the chest with one long manicured fingernail.

“You weren’t supposed to fall in love with him,” she snaps then sighs and runs her eye over the images on the screen once again. She assesses them with a critical eye but her sideways glances tell him she’s got more on her mind.

“Love is a little strong,” Shiro mutters but he has to turn away from the eyes gazing back at him on the monitor. He doesn’t know what love is, not the kind Allura is talking about, but he’s no stranger to attraction.

And he’s more than a little attracted to Keith.

“He called again,” Allura says quietly after a few moments. Her fire has banked now, her voice soft with concern. It makes Shiro feel like a coward.

* * *

“You know, if you didn’t want to work with me anymore, you could have just said so!”

Shiro flinches as a takeaway coffee cup sails through the air and thuds against the brick wall of alley by his studio. He doesn’t need to look over his shoulder to know who threw it, or who yelled at him.

He turns slowly, his heart thudding in his chest because the last thing he wanted was for Keith to hate him. He hated himself enough for the both of them.

“That’s not it,” he says as he turns around. He’s unprepared for the fire blazing in Keith’s eyes. He’s even more beautiful like this, like an avenging angel ready to strike down the demons that haunt him.

A part of Shiro wishes he had his camera. The other part of him hurts for what could have been.

“It’s fine, Shiro. Whatever. Here’s your fee.”

Keith steps forward and shoves a thick white envelope at his chest with enough force that Shiro needs to take a step back.

He refuses to take it. “I don’t want this. We agreed on time for prints. And Allura told me she sent you the prints.”

“Yeah,” Keith all but spits. He shoves the envelope at Shiro again. “But I don’t need you to do me any fucking favours.”

Keith tries to shove the envelope at his chest once again, increasingly frustrated when Shiro won’t take it. Shiro holds his breath as Keith snarls and shoves a little harder. He’s not as big as Shiro, but he’s strong. Shiro imagines that Keith could easily take him if he was so inclined.

Shiro almost wishes he would.

“Keith, it’s not what you think. But it’s true that I can’t work with you anymore.”

Keith’s eyes glitter as he stares up at him. “Why not? Did I fuck up?”

Shiro draws in a breath and wills his blood to stop roaring so loudly in his ears.

It doesn’t work.

“No, god no. You’re incredible and… shit, Keith. You’re going to be amazing. You’re born for this.”

Keith grips his shirt a little tighter in his fist. “Then why the fuck are you trying to ghost me?”

“Because I can’t be creepy guy who hits on his clients. I can’t… I _won’t_ be that guy.”

“What?”

The stunned expression on Keith’s face is endearingly beautiful. The fire fades from his eyes and his sharpness turns soft. His hand slips, trailing down Shiro’s chest before falling to his side. Shiro gives him a tight smile.

“I like you, Keith. I like you _a lot_. But that’s why I think it’s best we don’t work together anymore. It would be messy and… and it would be taking advantage of you.”

Keith sparks again. “Bullshit,” he hisses.

Shiro starts to shake his head but Keith lifts his head and meets his gaze head on. Shiro can feel the power burning there behind those eyes. Keith stands his ground, just like Allura does and Shiro wonders somewhere in the back of his mind what it is about him that seems to attract these powerful personalities to him.

“It’s… Look, I wasn’t always behind the camera, but there was… there was some shit went down that messed with my head for a long time. And I won’t be the one to put anyone else in that position. To put anyone through that-”

Keith growls and cuts him off. “Okay. Fuck.”

Shiro blinks. “Excuse me?”

Keith threads his hands through his dark hair. “Just… fine. We won’t work together. Don’t photograph me. But don’t shut me out either. You’re… you’re not the only one who feels…” Keith swallows roughly but he doesn’t look away. “I like you too. A lot.”

* * *

Shiro offers to buy him another coffee and Keith looks shamefaced enough at the mess on the alley wall that he steps back and out of Shiro’s space. It wasn’t what Shiro wanted so he follows him and snags his hand before he can escape any further.

Keith has nice hands.

“I wasn’t trying to be a smart ass,” he hears himself say. He’s staring down at the way Keith’s palm fits so nicely in his own. The frisson he feels at the contact goes straight through him, curling around his spine and his heart. He glances up, wondering if Keith had felt it too.

Keith is watching him in that silent way of his. Eyes that see too much. Shiro feels exposed.

“I don’t want it,” Keith says. His chin lifts, a hint of a challenge there. “I want you.”

Keith’s free hand lands against his bicep then and skims bravely up over Shiro’s shoulder, to the back of his neck. There’s a slight tug and then Keith’s lips are on his, warm and dry and soft. There’s a rush of static in Shiro’s mind that blocks out everything around them except for the man kissing him right now, the press of his body, the gentle press and tease of his tongue as he probes against the seam of Shiro’s lips.

Shiro is helpless. So helpless.

Later, he somehow manages to find his strength again. He hovers over Keith, now naked and exposed against his sheets and leans down to kiss him. He’s never met anyone he enjoys kissing more. Has never experienced the way their bodies slot so perfectly together than he has with Keith. It leaves him in awe.

“Are you ready,” he whispers, one hand smoothing away a dark strand against Keith’s cheek. Keith’s eyes are luminous looking up at him and Shiro can see an entire lifetime within them.

Keith bites his lip then nods and then Shiro watches in awe as Keith’s eyes flutter closed when he pushes in, inch by inch until he deeply seated. He’s panting with the exertion to hold himself in check.

He wants this to last forever.

“Oh, fuck, Shiro. Oh, god-“

“Keith,” he groans. He’s sure he’s trembling, but that might be Keith. He presses his lips to Keith’s and loses track of where he ends and Keith begins.

Then he starts to move.

Keith gasps against his mouth and arches, his legs wrapped high against Shiro’s waist. He urges Shiro on, that gravelly voice rough in Shiro’s ear as Shiro gradually rocks harder. Each stroke takes him closer to the edge. He can feel Keith hard and leaking between them and snakes a hand down to curl his fingers around him. He’s rewarded by Keith’s keening sob of his name.

“That’s it, baby. That’s it. God, you’re beautiful, you feel so good… god, Keith-“

Keith clenches around him and his nails dig into the planes of Shiro’s back. And it’s good, it’s so good but it’s afterwards when Keith is lying with dark hair splayed wildly over the pillow and cheeks flushed that Shiro runs a gentle knuckle down the side of his cheek that Shiro experiences a small pang of regret he won’t be able to photograph him anymore.

Keith must see the regret in his eyes. His gaze turns wary. “What?”

Shiro forces a smile but it feels a little sad. It’s selfish, he knows. But he’s always been a little selfish. “You really were a joy to photograph,” Shiro tells him. “I’m going to miss it.”

For a moment, Shiro is terrified he’s said the wrong thing, especially when Keith’s expression shifts and then he’s suddenly shoving at Shiro to escape off the bed. He walks naked to the other side of the room.

“Keith?”

“Where’s your gear?” Keith demands, just as he spies Shiro’s camera bag in the corner of the room. Shiro sits up in confusion, watching as Keith bends down to rummage inside it and pulls out a camera.

He walks back towards the bed and holds out the camera to Shiro. The glint in his eye is a little muted, a little unsure despite how he tries to hide it.

“Here,” Keith says, nudging the camera to Shiro once again. Shiro reaches up to take it. “Just between us.”

Shiro takes the camera then glances back up at Keith. Without needing to look, he flicks a few settings on the camera then promptly drops it on the sheets.

“Come here.” He pulls Keith back onto the bed and seeks out his mouth.

Somewhere nearby, the timer goes off and the shutter clicks.

If life is a series of snapshots, he wants Keith beside him in every one.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] shutterbug by kittymills](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22064929) by [taikodragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/taikodragon/pseuds/taikodragon)


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